There is something in the end there is no avoidingThat is more present than breath, than self, than distractionMore present than this moment? Yes, even that --

Even than all those birds perched high in the Tree of HeavenThat broke into all your wondering -- even thanThat huge exotic shrine at the centre of your heart,Your voice, your whole face turned inward...Or mine now -- as I cut it back, backFrom my thoughts: to my being; then my breathAnd then, not even that

And across the gulf of silence from beforeNames, images -- before whiteness was even born --And now, at the heart of emptinessWhere there is no I, nor breathing evenOr only this suspended pause

'There is only Love that made us, only Love'And you in the vast silence like an ocean without water,Like rain before rain --like an unbroken mirror

And across the gulf of silence from beforeNames, images -- before whiteness was even born --

A contemplation of endings, of death, and how, within that void, is a nameless something...

And now, at the heart of emptinessWhere there is no I, nor breathing evenOr only this suspended pause

A core essence that remains that is whole and unwounded.

'There is only Love that made us, only Love'And you in the vast silence like an ocean without water,Like rain before rain --like an unbroken mirror

It gathers itself, ready to be reborn.

You in the Womb of Love.

Have a beautiful weekend. And if you celebrate Easter, may it be a time of rebirth and renewal, allowing what you have outgrown to fall away while welcoming new life, new possibility, new purpose, and new spirit.